‘Even sober, he was never the one for you.’

‘I know that.’ I turned down Fortis Green and headed for the lights. ‘No regrets.’

‘Isn’t this near where you said Grace lived?’ Heather asked.

‘It is, just round the next corner.’

‘Oo, let’s have a look.’

‘Why? There’s nothing to see.’

‘I know, but she’s captured my imagination as well as yours and you know what a nosey cow I am so, seeing as we’re passing, let’s have a look.’

I turned left and slowed down as we got to the house that the census had given as Grace’s address. ‘There it is,’ I said as I pointed to the right side of the road.

‘Let’s get out,’ said Heather. ‘I want a closer look.’

I parked the car, we got out, and stood on the opposite side of the road to where the house was.

‘Nice little house,’ said Heather as she looked up at the first floor. ‘I wonder which was your bedroom.’

‘Stop it, Heather,’ I said. ‘I told you, I’m letting it all go now, moving on.’ As we stared up, a small white-haired woman who looked in her seventies came out of the gate and noticed us looking up at the windows. She came straight over. ‘Can I help you?’ she asked in a tone that said she didn’t want to help us at all, more that she wanted to know what we were doing checking out where she lived.

‘I … No, sorry,’ I said. ‘I … I … wah …’

‘What she’s trying to say,’ said Heather, ‘is that she’s been researching a family tree and looking into census records and this address came up.’

The woman’s face softened. ‘How fascinating. I love all that stuff. I always watch Who Do You Think You Are? So what have you found?’

‘Er … that the Harris family lived here and they had two daughters, Grace and Lily.’

‘That’s correct,’ said the woman. ‘Lily was my mother, Harris was her maiden name. So, are we distant cousins or something?’

‘Oh, I—’

‘Six degrees of separation,’ Heather interrupted.

‘What does that mean?’ asked the woman.

‘It’s the idea that any person on the planet can be connected to any other person on the planet through a chain of acquaintances that has no more than five intermediaries. The connections are amazing.’

‘So you knew Grace Harris?’ I asked.

‘Sadly not. She would have been my aunt but she died before I was born.’

‘What about her daughter Minty?’ Heather asked.

The woman went white. ‘Did you say her daughter? And you know her name?’

Heather nodded. ‘Grace’s daughter.’